


Calyx

by cheshirecat101



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Adult Credence Barebone, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asexual Newt Scamander, Blow Jobs, Flowers, Good Original Percival Graves, Language of Flowers, M/M, Protective Original Percival Graves, Rimming, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: Newt owns a flowershop that Credence stops by every day on his way to work, hoping that his abusive boyfriend, Gellert Grindewald, never finds out. But then Credence stops coming by, and Newt has to turn to Percival Graves, the charming, albeit somewhat domineering regular customer at the shop for help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop writing this OT3 and it's taking over my life but that's okay because it prompts good porn. So. Go forth and enjoy, my friends. 
> 
> Taking prompts on my [tumblr.](http://disassociatedtinman.tumblr.com/)

"White carnations." 

Credence looked at the offered bouquet, though Newt would insist that three flowers did not make a bouquet, or only made a very small bouquet and only if all three flowers were different kinds. Still, Credence was reluctant to take them at all, knowing he couldn't pay for them with Gellert watching his account. He wasn't even supposed to know about the flower shop that Credence was far too into the habit of stopping at on his way to work. 

"What do these ones mean?" he asked softly, and Newt smiled, something secret in it, something pleased, and just a little shy. Still shy, despite how many times he'd done this. 

"You'll have to figure it out," he answered secretively, and Credence accepted the flowers with a thin, pale hand. "Have a good day at work, Credence." 

He smiled softly, and slipped back into the shop, leaving Credence to sniff at the carnations, examine them for a moment before he smiled to himself, and continued on his way.

***

_White carnations. Pure love._

Credence looked at the meaning on his glaring computer screen for a minute before he shut the window, smiling secretly to himself, and just a little red around his ears. He opened up Excel again, and continued plugging away at his spreadsheet. 

***

"I need a bouquet." 

Newt didn't even look up upon hearing the voice, simply continuing in his basic work of trimming the stems of the tiger lilies in his hands. "Red and white roses, baby's breath, and freesia, Mr. Graves?" he asked on instinct, and could hear the smile in Graves's voice as he answered, "You know me so well." 

Newt didn't answer immediately, finishing with his tiger lilies before he looked up, seeing the familiar face across the counter. Well. Percival Graves was handsome, if nothing else. If you were into that sort of thing. 

"You know, you can ask for something else," he said, and Graves chuckled, looking down at the ground as he scuffed an impeccable leather loafer across it, as if playing bashful. 

"I can't get more beautiful roses anywhere else, you know that," he said slyly, eyes flashing back up to Newt's, which skipped away instantly, never one for prolonged eye contact. 

"I have other roses, too. Beautiful Damascan ones. But I suppose red is traditional." He paused a moment, set down his scissors, and wiped wet hands on his apron. "I'll get that bouquet for you right away."  
  
He could feel Graves's eyes on him as he worked, selecting each flower with care and laying them out in brown wax paper, beginning to artfully roll up the bouquet and tie a bow tight around it in twine to hold it together. 

He rung out Graves on the old register, manually entering the prices and exchanging cash and change with him once again, American money still slightly funny to him. Different, even after five years in the States.

"There you are, enjoy," he said as he handed over the blooming bouquet, smiling briefly, artificially, and Graves took the flowers from him, hands brushing just so. Newt pulled his own back immediately. 

"I'll see you next week," Graves said, punctuating his sentence with a nearly predatory smile, and Newt ducked his head, not quite an acknowledgement.  
  
But Graves didn't move to leave immediately, and Newt's eyes darted up just long enough to catch sight of the calculating expression on Graves's face. The silence dragged on just a touch too long, and finally, Newt asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Graves?"

Graves seemed to weigh his words heavily, and for a moment, a leather gloved hand lifted, then lowered again, as if he want to reach towards Newt but had to stop himself. Just barely managed to stop himself. And then suddenly it wasn't stopped at all, and Newt felt himself go still as Graves reached forward, and tucked a strand of Newt's curls behind his ear. And then he tapped Newt's chin, forcing his gaze up, and smiled when Newt made eye contact. 

"Next week," he promised, and slid his fingertips along Newt's cheek before turning away, and leaving with his bouquet.  
  
Newt stared after him for a minute, looking a touch startled, and then shook himself out of it, going back to the arrangement he was making. Graves was...persistent if nothing else. Coming in every week for the same bouquet, and always trying to use immeasurable charm on Newt that Newt barely took notice of. After all, he wasn't interested in the same thing Graves seemed to be interested in. And that wasn't going to change no matter how many flowers the man bought from him. 

***

Credence stared at the purple iris being offered to him, looking up at Newt, who'd been making more  and more eye contact with him recently, though Credence himself also tended to shy away from it some. A usual sign of his submissive nature. 

"Iris," Newt said sweetly, and offered it with a slightly sad expression. "I thought you could use some good news." 

Credence looked at the beautiful bloom, the simple amaranthine of it matching the violent violet bruise covering his right eye, which was still a little tender to the touch, though the color had started to fade into something slightly redder. Softer. 

He accepted the flower once again, but unlike usual, Newt didn't step back into the shop, saying goodbye and getting back to work. Instead, he stayed there, smiling slightly at Credence, who didn't know what to say. How to handle this. 

"Do you want some ice?" 

No, no, that was dangerous. Credence had never actually set foot into the shop, and was keeping it that way. He kept every flower Newt gave him, pressed them between the pages of old notebooks kept at his desk at work, but he never actually went in. He was worried what would happen if he did, that Gellert would suddenly know somehow what had happened. And jealousy seemed to be his favorite emotion. 

"I'm--I'm fine," Credence insisted, but Newt's kind eyes looked so hurt at that, so worried, and he wanted to capitulate, oh, he did. 

He cast a quick glance into the shop, and only saw one other customer there, a man  in a sharp suit examining a display of white freesia. He swore he'd seen him there before, but maybe he was simply a regular customer of Newt's. 

"Um. I'm on my way to work," Credence said a little weakly, and Newt nodded. 

"I know. Just a minute. You're always early anyway, right?" 

That was absolutely true, and Newt seemed so sincere and... "Okay," he said softly, and Newt smiled, leading the way back into the shop. 

He disappeared into the back for a moment, and Credence took a chance to look around at the beautiful, fragrant shop. So many pretty things, so many things he didn't deserve. There was so much care in what Newt did, so much thought to each prearranged bouquet and even to the individual flowers. He wondered, not for the first time, how Newt had gotten involved in this. It must have really been his passion.  
  
The man examining the freesia cast him a subtle glance but didn't pay much attention to him, and Credence was grateful for it. After a minute, Newt emerged with a bag of ice, wrapping it in a towel as he went, and handed it gently to Credence. "Here, have a seat," he said, rushing over to a covered chair by the counter and quickly clearing it off of the stacks of horticulture books steadily consuming it. Reluctantly, Credence accepted the seat, pressing the ice to his eye and closing them both. Oh, that felt so much better. 

"I'll be with you in just a moment, Mr. Graves," he heard Newt say, and a silky smooth voice answered, "Take your time, please."  
  
Newt was hovering nearby nervously, Credence could feel it, and opened one soft brown eye to look at the flower shop owner, who was watching him a bit anxiously.

Credence's iris was still held with care in his hand, and Newt was looking around the shop, his eyes occasionally alighting on the other man there, at which point his brow would furrow, just slightly, as if perplexed and slightly worried. But then he'd turn back to Credence, and smile slightly, and Credence managed a small smile back. Right now, he needed to pretend everything was okay, and Newt seemed to be helping him with that. As if everyone showed up to work with bruises over their eye, as if it was common for random shop owners to give sad boys flowers daily and for said sad boy to press each and every one of them as a keepsake. A memory of kindness, and a hopeful moment for the future. Not that Credence held much hope for that. But the flowers were pretty, and kind, and he had so little of both things in his life that he would take everything he could get from Newt's generosity. His caring nature. No wonder he knew how to handle Credence, he handled more delicate and prettier things every day. 

"Feeling a bit better?" Newt asked, and Credence nodded, trying to smile a bit but failing.  
  
"Credence..." 

Oh, he didn't like that tone. It sounded a touch dangerous, too soft, too cautious. Like Newt was about to ask something far too personal, far too close. And Credence was preparing to bolt when he heard, "Newt, how much for this Lily of the valley?" 

Newt was distracted by his random customer, and went to answer the question, getting involved in a conversation with the man for a minute, who Credence observed quietly.   
The man couldn't seem to keep his eyes off Newt, examining his face instead of the flowers even as Newt was explaining their origin, his source, the use of the fragrance in perfumes. His eyes skipped between Newt's mouth and lips, and his hands seemed to stray a few times as if he wanted to reach out, touch Newt's arm, or back, but he always restrained himself, fingers clenching again in a black leather glove. He liked Newt. 

Suddenly it all clicked into place, and Credence felt a little sick. Like Newt was his, his special secret, his own little getaway from the rest of his life. Not meant to be shared with someone who looked like he was only interested in sleeping with Newt, only interested in full lips and sweet eyes, delicate hands. Credence didn't have any stake over any of that, didn't have any claim to any part of Newt, but he was sick all the same. He didn't need this.  
  
Without a word, Credence got up, slipping out of the shop, the ice abandoned on the counter. As he left, he could feel Newt's eyes on him, but the man didn't try to stop him, and Credence could feel tears burning in his throat as he headed back out, on his way to work. 

He didn't realize he still had the iris until he was already at work. 

***

Credence hadn't been by in a few days, and Newt was starting to worry. It was their routine, their schedule, and Credence was punctual if nothing else. Always on time to work, or just early enough for Newt to see him, give him his flower(s), and send him on his way with a bit of sunshine to lighten that darkened soul. 

But it'd been three days. And no Credence. 

"Newt." 

He looked up from where he'd been staring at the ledger in front of him, ordering forms and invoices as he tried to take a quick inventory. He'd been staring at it for at least ten minutes without actually seeing it, and judging by the look on Graves's face when he made a brief moment of eye contact, this wasn't the first time that he'd tried to get his attention. 

Newt cleared his throat, blinking a few times quickly, and closed the ledger, asking, "The usual? I have some beautiful new ones coming in from Turkey--" 

He stopped abruptly as he felt a hand rest on top of his, pressed flat against the top of the ledger. Eyes drifted up to Graves's again, and the man actually looked concerned.

"What's going on?" he asked in that calm, clear voice, and Newt felt something clench tight in his chest.  
  
"Mr. Graves," Newt said softly, "I appreciate your concern but I don't want to trouble you with the inane details of my own life." 

Graves paused, seeming to consider his words for a moment, and then struck straight at Newt's heart with fangs out. "It's that boy, isn't it? The young man, Credence, who was in here a few days ago with the bruise?" 

Newt looked up at Graves, eyes skipping around his lapel before settling on his sincere eyes. Though there was something calculating there too. Venom began to sink into Newt's heart, pulse thudding unevenly. 

"What's going on with him isn't right, Newt. We both know it." It was the first time he'd used Newt's first name, and the way he said it made it sound sacred, somehow. A blessing, a benediction. Like he'd just been waiting to worship, worship, worship at Newt's altar. "I could stop it." 

And Newt's eyes were a little desperate as he looked up at Graves, something begging in them without his input because he wanted the best for Credence and Graves was offering help that Newt couldn't give. 

"Do you know where Credence works?" Graves asked, and Newt felt it. The shift in the air, the gravity of this moment. He could call it off now, and not get involved, and leave things as they were, however dangerous that might be. Or he could speak up, and possibly save Credence, the boy he was steadily developing some type of feelings for. 

"He works at the firm down the street. Suite 301," Newt said, and Graves nodded, looking a bit firmer now, like he'd already resolved something in his head. "But Mr. Graves..."   
Graves turned back to him, eyes questioning, brow furrowed just slightly, and Newt paused, taking a breath before he said, "I have nothing to thank you for this." 

And Graves smiled gently, picking up Newt's hand, and kissed the back of it with care. "Make me a bouquet," he said after a moment, and smiled at Newt in a way so much gentler than Newt had ever seen before, and swept out of the shop, the bell above the door ringing behind him. 

***

He was pacing again, but he couldn't help it. The shop was already closed, the sign flipped over, but the lights were still on, a sign that it was for safe travels, a safe haven for anyone he knew who returned. Whether that was Graves or Credence, alone, or both of them together. He'd already given up on the ledger, on taking inventory and sorting receipts. It required too much focus, too much attention, and he couldn't focus on anything but pacing an even line in the floor right now. 

Until he saw movement from the corner of his eye, and heard a knock. And there was Graves, holding up Credence, who looked unsteady, both of them bruised, bloody. But alive. 

Newt rushed to unlock the door and let them in, in a flurry as he cleared off space for them to both sit, Graves easing Credence into his seat first, then sitting heavily next to him with a slight wince. 

"I can't believe it, you both could have gotten killed," Newt said, hurrying around the shop as he picked up various herbs, already taking a mental inventory of what he'd need to heal them both. "What happened?" 

"Well. I asked at the firm for Credence, and they said he hadn't been by in a few days. So I got his home address, and...well. Mr. Grindewald won't be bothering Credence anymore."  
  
That was Graves's voice, calm and clear, and Newt stopped, turning to stare at him. "You could have gotten yourself killed!" he exclaimed, and quickly went back to his herbs, muttering Latin names to himself as he picked what he needed, then returned to the front of the shop, placing everything down on the store counter. 

"Reckless, completely reckless I can't believe it, I didn't think--you don't just--you can't just track someone down like that and confront someone dangerous!" He stopped all of a sudden, looking at them both. "I need hot water for this, and you both need tea." 

And with that, he swept into the back of the shop, leaving Credence and Graves watching the doorway he'd disappeared through, covered by an old curtain.

The sound of tea making could be heard, and Graves said quietly, "I've been trying to sleep with him for forever, but I think this is the most attractive he's ever been." 

Credence coughed, sounding like he was choking on his own indignant spit, and Graves turned to him, smiling slightly. "Listen, he's not--he's not meant for that," Credence said with a bright flush on a bruised face.  
  
Graves's voice was amused as he said, "No need to raise your hackles. I know you're his guard dog. And I know you're in love with him." 

Credence flushed deeper, mumbling something incoherently, and Graves smiled. 

"Don't worry," he said, and sighed. "I'm starting to think he's too cute to ruin." 

"Please don't ruin him," Credence said quietly. "I like him exactly as he is." 

"Then let's not say ruin," Graves said silkily. "I'm not opposed to...sharing, let's say. After all, I wouldn't have rescued you today Credence if I didn't see potential in you." 

Credence's dark brow furrowed. "Potential for what?" 

With that smile, Graves could have been a cat who ate a canary whole. "Everything," he answered simply, and before Credence could ask more, Newt was sweeping back in, tea tray in his hands that he set down. He distributed a cup to them both, saying, "Ginger and turmeric. Natural pain relievers and anti-inflammatories, they should help a bit with the wounds." He stopped, looking sincerely at Credence, and asked, "Are you alright?"  
  
Credence nodded slightly, a dip of his head, neck still in pain from where he'd had his head slammed up against a wall, but that was alright. Newt didn't look entirely convinced, but that was alright too. Because Credence was actually safe now, and he felt it for the first time since he'd started seeing Gellert. Safe, and comfortable as Newt's soft, careful hands (rough patches in some places where thorns had pricked him and flowers bitten back) began to apply an herbal paste he'd made to the worst of Credence's injuries, Graves patiently, but eagerly, awaiting his turn. 

It was only with Newt so close, so careful, that Credence noticed his hands were shaking the slightest bit, and for some reason, that more than anything else solidified in Credence's head just how worried Newt had been about him. About them both, considering his hands shook a bit more as he attended to Graves, who was clearly--to Credence at least--regulating his breathing, taking deep, slow breaths of Newt's close scent in, something earthy, something comforting. 

Maybe Graves was right. About Credence, and how he felt about Newt, and even about Credence's potential. Because as he watched Newt take such care with them both, still lecturing Graves endlessly, he felt in awe, yes, and protective, oh yes, but also...he wanted to ruin a little bit. Take that sweetness, and see what it tasted like on his tongue.  
  
Newt stopped mid sentence, abruptly, and both of the men he was attending to looked like they'd been shaken out of a spell, looking at him for an answer as he pulled back, watching them both. 

"What is it?" Credence asked after a minute, voice soft, always soft, and Newt said, "You've both been staring at me this entire time and I'm not sure what I've done." 

"Why. Won us over, of course," Graves said immediately, and Newt blushed, spluttering out something about incorrigible businessmen, and disappeared into the back again, leaving Credence and Graves slightly distressed, and alone.  
  
When he returned, Newt was blushing less, but the base of his neck was a little wet, small waves of his hair sticking to it, so clear that he'd splashed some water on his face and neck to calm himself down. 

He cleared his throat, and said, "You can both stay here tonight. Just for tonight," he added when he saw the smirk that Graves was trying to fight. "I have a flat above the shop, and enough room for you both, I think, with the fold out couch..." He frowned a second, then shook himself out of it. "It'll be enough space, and I want you both here to keep an eye on those injuries, see if we need a hospital or any stitches. Alright?" 

"Of course," Graves said smoothly, and Credence nodded again, the motion small, but all that was necessary. 

Newt rubbed at the back of his neck for a minute, then continued, "Alright, finish your tea--slowly--and I'll lead you upstairs. I'll go get things ready." 

And out the door he went again, leaving Credence and Graves to exchange a look as they sipped at their tea. 

***

It felt strange, having two men he still barely knew bunking together in his living room on a shitty fold out floral patterned couch--thanks mum for the addition to the living room--but at the same time, it set Newt at ease to know that he had them close, safe, close enough to keep watch over because it was a problem, but he was developing an attachment to these two men who'd both captured his attention. Graves had taken more time than Credence, and it'd come up rather suddenly, but now he felt...something else there. Something that was taking hold in his heart, making it ache a bit to have both men so close, and yet so far away. 

But it wasn't as if his queen sized bed was big enough for the three of them, and inviting them in also had implications that he wasn't sure he was ready to meet. It'd been a while since he engaged in anything remotely sexual, mostly because he just wasn't interested. Asexual was the label he'd found that applied best, and it comforted him as much as it made him hesitant. What would they expect from him, if he invited them in? What could he offer them that they couldn't find elsewhere, and better? Besides, they were both injured and Credence was healing from other wounds and it was all...complicated. At the same time, he was curious. And that bad bed wouldn't do anything for Credence's injured neck. 

He slipped open the sliding doors that led from his bedroom to the living room and found them both sitting up in bed, whispering, though it stopped when they saw him standing there, in a t shirt and his boxer briefs. 

"I thought..." he started softly then stopped, clearing his throat. "I thought maybe you might have better luck sleeping in my bed. That couch is pretty stiff."  
  
The two men exchanged a look, and Newt shifted, uncomfortable in the silence before they both started to get out of the bed, mattress springs creaking under their combined weight. 

"It um. It might be a bit of a tight fit," Newt explained as Graves headed past him into the bedroom, Credence following shortly afterwards, and Newt shut the sliding doors again, turning around to face the two men who were examining the bed before exchanging a look, and looking at Newt once more. As if looking for direction, permission, and Newt wasn't sure what the question was but knew the answer was yes. He wanted to give them both what they were seeking, simply nervous about it in the meantime.  
  
"So, um..." Newt started, then stopped, and took a step forward, nervously wringing his hands, rubbing them together. He turned and sat on the bed, patting either side of where he sat, and slowly, Credence joined him on his left, Graves on his right. 

"It's um...I want you both to know," he started, having some trouble, but muddling through. "That I do like you both. But I'm not good at this part. I'm...always too nervous, too shaky. And I don't want anyone to be disappointed. I don't...even know if this is what you both want." 

A heavy pause, and Graves's hand reached out, for the first time without a leather glove on it, bare skin contacting Newt's cheek as he ran fingers along his jaw line. Credence pressed against his other side, laying a careful head against his shoulder, and the pressure in Newt's chest squeezed tight before easing, just a bit. 

"We just want you, Newt," Graves said quietly, and Newt could feel Credence nod, as well as the soft brush of fingertips down his throat. "In whatever way you'll have us." 

"You're both...you're both hurt. I don't want anyone getting more injured on my account," Newt said quietly, and Graves chuckled. But it was Credence who spoke. 

"I'd rather get injured for this than anything else." 

Newt hesitated, and then reached out and took hold of the hand Graves was touching him with, linking fingers with him. And he turned and brushed a kiss across Credence's forehead, the younger man turning his face up to look at him with all the awe of a flower facing the sun.   
"Okay," Newt said softly. "Okay." And Credence turned his face up completely, and kissed him, Graves's lips finding the back of Newt's neck, a shiver crawling down Newt's spine.  
  
It was slow at first, and slow was what Newt needed. Graves's hands pulling off Newt's t shirt. Credence's fingers crawling up Newt's chest, long fingers like white lilies blooming against Newt's skin. Newt picked up one hand and kissed the tip of each finger individually, watching the expanding dark of Credence's pupils in his brown sugar eyes. That turned into a soft inhale as Newt began to suck on his index finger, lips trembling just slightly, but Credence didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mind. 

Meanwhile, Graves pressed his weight against Newt's back, soft hand on Newt's shoulder, soft, soft, as lips kissed along the back of Newt's neck and around the side to his cheek, until Newt turned to kiss him as well, pulling off Credence's finger. The kiss was powerful, and all consuming, Graves dominating it as Newt had expected, pushing forward hungrily and Newt simply did his best to keep up. 

A moment later, it broke, Graves's breathing loud in the harsh quiet of the room, and Newt in that moment realized just how wanted he was. By both of them. And it was a rush of power that he hadn't imagined would feel like this, like he had all the control in the situation because he was the focus, despite how little he knew himself. How inexperienced he felt, especially with two bedmates at once, something he'd certainly never tried. 

"How..." He paused, swallowing, aroused by the contact if not attraction to his partners in this that didn't extend beyond aesthetic and romantic. "How do we do this?"  
  
"Let me--let us guide you," Graves said, that low voice gravelly with withheld lust, and Newt could feel Credence nod as he kissed along Newt's shoulder. 

"We can handle it," he added, and Newt swallowed, nodded, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he opened them again.   
  
"Alright, alright," he said, nerves kicking up, then settling a bit again, as Graves and Credence's hands slid to meet at his stomach, the waistband of his boxer briefs, and they pulled them down together, Newt lying back on the bed and lifting his hips to help them off. The hands laced together over his stomach, his half hard member free in the cool air, Graves and Credence holding hands against him as they both went back to kissing along his neck and chest, occasionally tongue, occasionally teeth coming out. Marks were sucked, light bruises, red carnations blooming under the surface of his skin, and he gasped softly, hands reaching out to stroke Graves's cheek, Credence's hair. 

"What can you take, Newt?" Graves asked softly, in that hush reserved for lovers, and Newt made eye contact with him, seeing the reverence in Graves's expression. Worship, worship. 

"I want to help both of you, but I don't know how," he said, knowing both of them were more aroused currently than he was, though he would get there. "I'm not...totally inexperienced. I've been with men and women before. Just...never two people at the same time." 

"Have you been penetrated?" Graves asked, and Newt flushed, nodding. 

Credence looked up at him from down by his hip, something in his eyes as he looked between Newt and Graves. Worship, worship. Careful, careful. 

"Do you have any supplies?" was Graves's next question, and Newt nodded. 

"Condoms, lube...that drawer," he said, pointing to the nightstand closer to Credence, who sat up and moved, beginning to pull things out. "Always, you know...just in case. I guess this is my just in case."  
  
"Okay," Graves said, accepting the condom and lube that Credence handed him, Credence keeping a condom for himself. He looked to Credence for a moment, asking something unspoken, and Credence shook his head, prompting Graves to smile slightly, and press a kiss to Credence's hand. Newt was a bit lost. 

"I'm going to take you, if that's alright, Newt," Graves said softly, looking at Newt again, and suddenly Newt understood the unspoken conversation. "And maybe, if you can, Credence can use your mouth as well. If you can't, that's alright. If you don't want to, that's definitely alright." 

"No, I want to," Newt said firmly, feeling more strongly about this sex than he had about anything else in the past. All wrong partners, all wrong experiences. This felt right, somehow. It didn't change his sexuality or anything, of course not, but it did feel right. And he felt comfortable, safe with them both looking out for him, despite them being the injured parties. 

"Let's try," he murmured softly, and Graves and Credence kissed him at once , the feeling of two mouths sharing his own odd, but not unwelcome. And then they both began to kiss down, down, down his stomach, and suddenly Newt had two eager and experienced tongues teasing along his member.  
  
Newt panted, hips twisting slightly under their tongues, their lips, their teasing, and he felt a hand from each man hold down his hips, both of them licking along his length in a way that had him shivering and shaking, a soft moan scratching out of his throat. Slowly, he was gently pushed to lie back farther on the bed, and Graves knelt down at the end of the bed as Credence moved into position by Newt's side. Graves pulled Newt forward to him by his hips, positioning Newt's legs on top of his shoulders. 

Newt looked down at Graves, who'd been sleeping in his button up white shirt and black silk boxers, the shirt open a few buttons to expose a swathe of skin, collarbone, chest. Newt watched as he carefully leaned in, and, making full eye contact with Newt, began to lick around his entrance, hand spreading Newt's ass to allow him more access. And Newt gasped softly, wet, hot tongue teasing him twice over as Credence began to suck at his member again.

Slowly, so slowly, heat was building in Newt's abdomen, and he moaned gently, velvety voice rich with lush pleasure as he was teased on both counts, Graves working him open now with lubed up fingers as well, Credence sucking earnestly at his cock, bow lips wrapped around him as he hollowed already hollow cheeks.   
  
Just like that, with Graves gently teasing his prostate, and Credence working him over by the mouthful, Newt said, "I'm--I'm going to come, Credence--"   
Credence pulled off, stroking him gently, and Newt came over his own stomach, making a mess of his abdomen and Credence's hand.  
  
Graves gently kissed the inside of Newt's thigh, lips wet with his own saliva, and Newt shivered as Credence finally removed his hand, sitting on the bed again. He was in his boxers and a long sleeved shirt that he'd borrowed from Newt, an offer that Graves had declined because he was...of a different build. Too big for Newt's things. But Credence had accepted, and Newt felt a stirring of affection upon seeing the younger man in his clothes. 

"Newt, I need you to change position," Graves said, gently pulling free his two fingers and pressing in a third, stretching Newt more. 

Newt gasped softly and nodded, taking a moment before asking, "Where would you like me?"  
  
Graves moved his fingers inside him for a minute, stretching, thrusting, before he pulled his hand away entirely, leaving Newt feeling empty. Devoid. "Up on the bed. We need space for all three of us," Graves said, and Newt sat up shakily, Credence moving out of his way so Newt could kneel, hands on the bed and Credence moving so he was underneath Newt. Newt went down to his elbows, holding on to Credence's hips for balance as Graves positioned himself behind Newt's waiting hips. 

"Are you sure about this?" Credence asked softly, fingers of his clean hand brushing through Newt's waves, and Newt kissed his hip, smiling gently.

"I am," he said, loud enough for Graves to hear, and felt a kiss on his own hip as Graves positioned himself, and began to push his way in. 

Newt's mouth dropped open, a silent moan and then a soft grunt as Graves pushed in completely, seating himself fully in Newt with a low noise, half a moan. He didn't move for a minute, and Newt took the opportunity to slowly, shallowly take Credence in his mouth, tongue beginning to tease along his length as Graves started to rock his hips, just gently, groaning. Newt moaned around Credence, who shuddered, the film of the condom he was wearing preventing some sensation, but most of it going through.  
  
It was all so slow, so sweet, so sticky. Newt took his time in pleasuring Credence, all the while feeling each steady, sensual roll of Graves's hips, each one nearly sending shudders through his body. Graves was so careful with him, so controlled, and Newt rocked back against him, offering him the space to lose himself a little. Let that careful control slip. 

And Graves took the invitation, beginning to move faster, hips rougher, and Newt's nails dug into Credence's hips, his tongue working overtime, mouth inexperienced in this but doing his best. Which was good enough, it seemed, as Credence suddenly tensed and stilled, moaning softly as he came in the condom.   
Newt removed his mouth, Graves finally able to fully thrust into him, faster, rougher, rougher, faster, until he finished with a groan, stilling as well.  
  
They were all quiet for a minute, just breathing in the silence, and then Newt started laughing, much to the confusion of his bedmates. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said after a minute, catching his breath. "I just realized I'll have to make you both breakfast now, and I have no groceries." 

***

They ended up going out for breakfast. And when they got back, Newt kept the shop closed for the day, working on two bouquets while the three of them talked, and presenting them each with one at the end of the day. Red and white roses, baby's breath, white carnations, pink delphinium and red sweetpea for Graves. Red daisy, pink eglantine rose, white snowdrop, white star of Bethlehem, and white honeysuckle for Credence. And when they both asked what the flowers meant, Newt simply smiled, kissed them both, and said, "I guess I need a bigger bed now, don't I?"

**Author's Note:**

> Red roses-true love  
> White roses-Silence or innocence, wistfulness, virtue, purity, secrecy, reverence and humility  
> Baby’s breath-innocence, purity of heart  
> White carnations-sweet and lovely, innocence, pure love faithfulness  
> Delphinium(pink)-Levity, fun, big-hearted, ardent attachment, joy  
> Sweetpea(red)-gratitude  
> Red daisy-beauty unknown to possessor   
> Eglantine rose (pink)-a wound to heal  
> Snowdrop(white)-consolation or hope  
> Ornithogalum (star of Bethlehem-white)-Atonement, reconciliation  
> Honeysuckle(white)-devoted affection, bonds of love


End file.
